


The Morning After

by JQ (musicmillennia)



Series: KillerWave Week 2016 [4]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Modern Royalty, Secretary Cisco, Tabloids, apparently I can't go a single fic without mentioning a Snart, omg I'm becoming Mick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 03:41:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7151639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicmillennia/pseuds/JQ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That is, the morning after a princess makes her first big scandal...and, yes, the morning after she sleeps with a commoner.</p><p>Queen Snow is gonna be pissed.</p><p>[Day 4: Royal Court AU]</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Morning After

**Author's Note:**

> You guys can't give me prompts like Royal Court AU, okay? There are TOO MANY POSSIBILITIES. I'm a fantasy writer ffs.
> 
> So I decided to spare myself a giant headache and went with a short modern royalty thing. I hope you guys like it, even though there's not a hint of magic.

Caitlin’s brain won’t let her forget. The moment she wakes up, it all comes flooding back in one giant headache.

Burying her face in one of her pillows, she groans, “What have I done?”

Mick Rory’s already reading the morning paper next to her. “Apparently you publicly insulted Harrison Wells, and…” he flips back to the headline, “called him a ‘danger to society’. At his own fundraiser.” Grinning at Caitlin, “Pretty awesome, Princess.”

Caitlin scrubs her hands over her face. “Why did I do that? I wasn’t drunk; I was well aware of paparazzi nearby; I knew what Wells’ invention meant to the kingdom.”

“Yeah, but Wells is a shady bastard who almost blew up half the capital.”

“Tell that to my mother when she has me assassinated. But,” she adds, “at least there’s nothing about you in there.”

Mick promptly reads, “‘This unusual outburst most likely stemmed from the Princess’ _association_ with Mick Rory, a commoner except for the criminal record and history of arson.’” Caitlin groans again. “‘He was critically injured in the small explosion from Dr. Wells’ famous particle accelerator, reportedly on his way back to his apartment after work. Could it be that our prestigious monarch is letting emotions for _criminals_ affect her judgment?’”

“She’s going to use her parasol to do it,” Caitlin decides, “shove it down my throat and pull the trigger.”

“That’s a gun, Caitlin.”

“You don’t know my mother’s parasol.”

Mick grins. “Oh?”

The eager glint in his eye only serves to remind Caitlin of the article all over again. Before she can hide under the covers, Mick winds his finger into the thick lock of white among her red hair and tugs.

“Can’t you just—I dunno. Say sorry?”

Caitlin’s eyes fly open.

Mick grunts in surprise as he’s suddenly knocked against the painfully expensive headboard by a lapful of Princess.

“Mick,” Caitlin says, cupping his face, “you’re a genius.”

While Mick accepts her excited kisses he mutters, “Been accused of a lotta things, but _genius_ is a new one.”

Undeterred, Caitlin reaches over and rips her cell phone from its charger. As she jams her finger on her speed dial, she murmurs to herself, “I’ll plan a lunch—casual, but at a good restaurant. I’ll publicly apologize for my comment, make amends.” The dial tone drones in her ear. She looks at Mick and keeps talking: “Dr. Wells is a reasonable man, rational, intelligent. I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to talk this out.”

Mick blinks. “…am I supposed to answer you, or—”

“Cisco!” Caitlin chirps.

_“Morning, Your Madge! We on this clean up thing or what?”_

“Yes we are. I want you to call STAR Labs and set up a lunch with Dr. Wells. No! Set up a dinner.”

_“Got it, shows more sincerity. Looks like you’re free oooon…Tuesday night. Seven?”_

“Seven is perfect. And make sure it’s at—” Caitlin flies through a mental list of Central’s restaurants, “he likes Italian right?”

_“Correctamundo. Giuseppi’s?”_

“Definitely.”

 _“I’ll hit ‘im up. But, Cait…”_ oh no. _“I mean, now that we’ve got the priority outta the way, I should tell you that Duchess Snart called.”_ Oh _no_. _“And by ‘called’ I mean, she’s…right here? With her brother? They kinda sorta snuck in again.”_

Caitlin closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Mick takes that as his cue to nip at the spot behind her ear; she wraps an arm around his neck and exhales.

“Cisco.”

_“Yeah?”_

“Call Iris. Tell her lunch is on me if she gets to the palace within the hour.”

_“On it. You want me to get Barry here too?”_

Caitlin sags against Mick. “That would be wonderful.”

_“I got you, Your Madge. And by the way, we’re having words about your taste in guys.”_

She scoffs, but she’s smiling. She can do this; she’s a Princess, for fuck’s sake. “I’ll make sure to get you a whole bagful of lollipops.”

_“I’ll hold you to that! I’ve seen your bank account!”_

A muffled yet all too familiar drawl sounds in the background.

_“What? No, I’m not telling you, Snart!”_

Royal amenities have helped given Cisco Ramon quite the backbone. Caitlin adores him for it.

“I’ll be down soon. Give them tea—make sure Leonard’s is iced and Lisa’s has a big dollop of honey!”

_“Yep!”_

“Thank you, Cisco.”

_“Ay, that’s what I’m here for, Princess.”_

She hangs up, leaning into Mick for just a little longer.

“Want me to eat you out before I go?” he asks.

Caitlin runs her fingers through her white lock of hair. “Definitely.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
